


Faking Rather Merry

by comebacknow



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Party, M/M, Minho POV, fake relationship au, minaris, modern day AU, newt is a bit judgemental whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebacknow/pseuds/comebacknow
Summary: It's Minho's turn to host the annual Christmas Eve party.  It'd be a lot easier if he hadn't celebrated Christmas Eve EVE so heavily the night before.  It'd also be a lot easier if he didn't have to worry about sneaking his latest one-night-stand out of the apartment...





	Faking Rather Merry

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for TMR Secret Santa exchange.

 

 

                  There was machinery being tightened and compressing Minho’s brain.  No, no it wasn’t pressing against his brain, his brain was simply shrinking, its little arms that connected it to his skull pulling taught.  He opened his eyes blearily to his pillow.  There was no machinery, there was no shrink ray; Minho was simply hungover.

                  He blinked himself awake until he could circle his mind around the current situation.  A few flicks of his gaze without moving his head allowed him to see light brown walls, a small side table with a yellow lamp thankfully upright, and a watch and a cellphone carelessly tossed next to it.  He allowed a small sense of relief to realize he was in his bedroom.

                  He shut his eyes tight and tried to remember the events of the previous night.  He remembered Brenda’s bar, The Scorch.  He remembered the ugly sweater party, he remembered singing karaoke to Blue Christmas, and he remembered the vague taste of the gumdrop martinis.  Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hurl.

                  Instead, he forced his arms to move and pushed himself up from the bed.  And then, hovering and staring down at his pillow, he nearly swallowed his tongue as another memory burst to color in his vision.  He turned his head to the left and eyed the massive lump of blankets next to him, slowly breathing.  He blinked.  Right, he’ll deal with that later.  

                  _Later._

“Shit,” he breathed, pushing himself off the bed faster than he really should have in his state.  He snatched his phone from the table and, ignoring the mess of notifications, eyed the time.  11:43am.  To say he was behind schedule was an understatement.

 

                  By the time Minho had gathered his senses, pulled on a pair of flannel pants and drank enough water to fill a small lake, it was just about noon.  He shoved the turkey into the oven and threw roasted potatoes on the rack above it, set two different timers on his phone and then saw movement from the corner of his eye.

                  “Morning,” the boy greeted, the heel of his palm pressed into one of his eyes.  He dropped his hand to reveal red-lined eyes as he looked confusedly around the kitchen.  “Is everything okay?”  
  
                  Minho looked at him.  “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

                  The boy raised a brow.

                  Minho, for the life of him, could not remember his name. He opened his mouth to ask when –

                  “Minho, what the hell happened in here?”

                  Minho swallowed his question.  Well, he couldn’t very well ask his name _now_.  Instead, he looked around the kitchen.  Foil tins were tossed here and there, several used knives adorned the counters, and measuring cups, spoons and containers lay abandoned wherever he’d used them.  He looked back over at the boy.  “I’m preparing for the Christmas Eve party.  Newt’s gonna be here literally any minute now and if he walks in and nothing’s done he’s gonna flip.”

                  “Let me help you then,” the boy took a few steps forward, but Minho held up a hand.

                  “You can help me by getting out of here before he-.” His words were interrupted by a knock at the door.  Minho swore under his breath and tossed the dish towel aside.  “You,” he pointed to the boy. “Room. Now. Don’t make a sound.”

                  The boy rolled his eyes but jogged up the three steps to the hall and ducked in the bedroom.

                  Minho waited for the bedroom door to close before he pulled the front door of the apartment open.  “Hi!” he greeted Newt.

                  Newt’s mouth pressed into a line.  “Minho,” he greeted, eyes raking over him.  “I see you’re in not-so-rare form today.”  He side-stepped him and let himself into the apartment.  “And so is your place,” he sighed.

                  “I’m working on it,” Minho said as he closed the door.  “Just need to… finish up a few things. 

                  “I knew this was a mistake.”

                  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

                  “You do this every year, Minho,” Newt said, gesturing to him with his free hand while his other balanced two trays of something.

                  “Do what?”

                  “Christmas Eve Eve,” Newt explained.  “And don’t bother lying to me; you smell like a brothel.”

                  “You’d know,” Minho murmured under his breath.

                  Newt flipped him off as he walked over to the kitchen counter.  He pushed a plastic grocery bag out of the way and put his trays down.  “At least there are decorations, I guess.” 

                  Minho watched as Newt glanced up to the garland adorning the wide arch between the kitchen and living room with a single lop-sided bow in the center. “I’m working on it,” Minho said, scratching the back of his head.

                  “I take it you’re working on a lot of things,” Newt sighed.  “I’m gonna run back downstairs and grab the presents from my car.  I’ll be back in a bit to help.”

                  “Great,” Minho nodded.  He waited until the door was closed and he heard footsteps walking down the apartment building’s steps before he leapt up to the hallway and burst into his room.  “You gotta go.”

                  “What?” the boy asked.

                  “Out,” he pointed to the door.  “Now.”

                  The boy leapt off the edge of the bed where he sat and scrambled around the room looked for his shoes.

                  “Hurry,” Minho snapped his fingers. 

                  “I’m looking for my shoe!” the boy defended as he hopped on one foot and pulled one on.  “And do you see my shirt?”

                  “Fuck the shirt – get out.”

                  “I’m not going outside shirtless; it’s twenty degrees out!”

                  “I do not care,” Minho said, emphasizing each word with another clap of his hands.  “Let’s gooooooo.”

                  The boy snatched the other shoe from beneath the bed and pulled a mostly mint green button down out as well.  A fair percentage of it was covered with something purple and blotchy.  “Where’s my coat?”  
  
                  Minho threw his head back with a groan and jogged down the steps leading to the kitchen and living room.  He glanced around and then spotted the red scarf and unfamiliar denim jacket thrown on the sofa.  He heard footsteps behind him as he grabbed it and he turned and shoved it in the boy’s arms.  “Out. Now.”

                  “Can I get your number?” the boy asked.

                  Minho pulled the door open and shoved the boy through it.

                  The boy started hurrying toward the stairs, pulling his jacket over his bare body when Minho heard rustling plastic and uneven footsteps on the stairs.

                  He lunged forward and gripped the collar of the boy’s jacket and held him back.  “Hang on,” he whispered.  Minho leaned over the banister and looked down the stairwell to find Newt three floors down carrying a giant gift bag of presents and another large gift box in his other hand.  “Back in, back in, back in,” Minho repeated as he yanked the boy back toward his apartment and shoved him inside.

                  “Now what?” the boy asked.

                  Minho pushed a hand through his hair and felt the leftover gel from the previous night.  “Out the window,” he breathed as he looked across the apartment.

                  “What?” the boy asked incredulously.

                  “The window,” Minho repeated. “Out.”

                  “You live on the sixth floor!”

                  “Then hope there’s a trampoline at the bottom.”  
  
                  “You’re insane.”

                  “And you’re gonna be out the window in one minute either by choice or by me throwing you.”

                  “What the hell?!”

                  “Shhhhhut your mouth!” Minho said shoving a hand over the boy’s mouth.

                  “Minho!” Newt’s voice yelled from the hall.  “Open the door!”

                  Minho clenched his jaw and stared at the boy’s brown eyes above his hand.  “In my room. Not one sound.”

                  The boy got in one more eye-roll before Minho spun him on the spot and pushed him toward the hall.

                  “One second!” Minho yelled toward the hall outside as he waited for the boy to scurry back into his room.  When the door was closed, he turned to the apartment door and took another breath.  “Okay,” he whispered to himself. “Okay, this is fine.” He pulled the door open again.  “Come on in.”

                  Newt managed to get through the door and Minho pointed to the tree in the corner of the living room. “You can put them under there.”  
  
                  “At least there’s a tree,” Newt murmured.

                  Minho closed the door and scratched the back of his neck.  “What’s in here?” he pointed to the foil trays on the counter.

                  “Lasagna.”

                  Minho raised a brow at him.  “Since when do you know how to…?” Realization struck his chest.  “Are you and Nick _dating_?”

                  “No,” Newt frowned at him as he finished stacking the presents neatly beneath the tree.  “We just work together.”

                  “Uh huh,” Minho smirked and folded his arms.  “So you’re messing around.”

                  “Minho, not everything in life revolves around sleeping with people.”

                  Minho blinked back his shock.  “I didn’t say it was.”

                  “You didn’t have to,” Newt laughed. “I know how you are and that’s fine.  You do what you want.  I’m just saying that not all of us are keen to just sleep around with whatever person we can get.”

                  “I don’t do that either,” Minho snapped back, offended.  He ignored the guilt of lying that scratched at his chest.

                  Newt shrugged.  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

                  “Well, believe it,” Minho said.

                  Newt gave an unimpressed look toward Minho.

                  “I’ll have you know I’ve been seeing someone.”

                  “Mhm,” Newt nodded. “For three hours last night?”

                  “Try three months, actually.”

                  “The same person?” Newt leveled.

                  “Yes.”

                  “Uh huh,” Newt nodded.

                  Minho smirked and turned away.

                  “And will I get to meet this mystery person?”

                  Minho blinked down at the box of rice in his hands.  “I, uh… I think he’s busy today.”  
  
                  “Shocking.”

                  “Why don’t you believe me?” he asked, turning and leaning back on the counter.

                  “Because it’s the same thing every time, Min,” Newt shrugged.  “I don’t mean to pressure you or put you down but every time I see you it’s someone new who you’ve barely known for a week.  A new job, a new apartment,” he gestured vaguely around the room.  “Though they’ve all started following the same pattern of storage garage until your lease is up.”

                  Minho ignored the way his chest constricted inside of him.  Newt had been his best friend since childhood, but at some point, he seemed to run ahead in the race of life while Minho preferred to linger back.   “Things have changed,” he attempted with a careless shrug.  He turned back to the box of rice.  Suddenly, he heard pipes creak and then water began to run from his bathroom.  He could have sworn his heart stopped.

                  “Is… is that a shower?” Newt asked.

                  Minho spun and looked at him.  “It’s been acting up,” he lied.  “Let me go check on that.  It’s… a mess. Just… turning on and off on its own.  You know how it is.”

                  Newt raised a brow.

                  “I’m gonna go turn it off.”  He turned on his heel and jumped up the steps and shouldered his way into his room.  He yanked his bathroom door open and was greeted by steam and running water.  He pulled the curtain back and slammed a fist into the shower’s knob and glared at the boy.  “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered through his teeth.

                  The boy blinked, hands lowering to cover himself needlessly by this point. “Showering.”

                  Minho exhaled heavily through his nose. “Get. Out.”

                  “Well, I’m stuck here, I might as well shower,” the boy shrugged.

                  “Out.” Minho whispered louder.

                  The boy jumped out of the shower and Minho shoved a towel in his hands.  “Listen to me,” Minho said, glaring at him.  “I am going to distract Newt and you’re going to sneak out of the apartment without a sound, okay?”

                  “Okay,” he nodded. “What about your friend?”

                  Minho blinked. “What’d I just say?”

                  “You said you were gonna distract a newt while I escape.”

                  “Newt!” Minho shouted in a fierce whisper.  “Newt! His name is Newt!”

                  “Like the salamander?” the boy asked.

                  Minho ran a hand down his face. “Get dressed and wait for my signal.  I’m going to fake a sneeze and bring Newt toward the oven and you’re going to leave. Okay?”

                  The boy nodded.

                  Minho shook his head in annoyance and left the room to join Newt back in the main room.  “Hi,” he breathed.  “All fixed.”  
  
                  Newt nodded.  “I wouldn’t go that far, but okay.”

                  “Why don’t you help me with the turkey?” Minho gestured to the oven. 

                  “Sure,” Newt nodded and pushed himself up from where he was still crouched near the tree.  He checked the time on his phone and then walked toward Minho.

                  Minho faked an extravagant sneeze.

                  Newt blinked.  “Are… are you okay?”

                  “Yep!” Minho said loudly.  “Come on.”

                  Newt lowered a brow but followed him to the oven. 

                  Minho stood between Newt and the front door in attempt to block his view and opened the oven.

                  “Nice size,” Newt nodded.

                  “Yeah,” Minho nodded and looked over his shoulder to see the boy peering around the edge of the hall.  He looked pointedly at the door and then back to Newt.  “I figured this would work for eight?”  
  
                  “Eight?” Newt looked up at him.

                  Minho casually moved a bit to the right to be sure he was blocking his vision.  “Yeah, right?”

                  “Thirteen,” Newt corrected him.

                  Minho blinked.  “What?”

                  “Teresa’s coming this year; she’s back from Denver.”

                  Minho blinked.

                  “And my sister and her girlfriend?” Newt raised his brows.  “ _You_ ’re the one who invited Brenda and her boyfriend.”

                  “Yeah,” Minho nodded.  “Right.  What’d I say? I only meant because I… probably won’t have any.”

                  Newt lowered a brow.

                  Minho cleared his throat and gestured to the oven.  “Did you see the potatoes?”  He waited for Newt to look back inside the oven before he turned to see the boy just about at the door.  He caught his gaze and mouthed _GO_ before he turned back to the oven.  He pointed to the back corner of the potato rack.  “I can’t tell if the heats really hitting them there or not, what do you think?”  As Newt rambled something off, Minho turned to see the boy twist the doorknob. He looked back at Newt. “Mhm, mhm, yeah I see.”

                  “Oh, thank you!” a voice suddenly called out.

                  Minho whipped around to see the boy holding the door open to reveal Frypan on the other side of it, laden with presents and a large round tray.

                  “Can you take this for me?” he held it out to the boy, who silently took it.  “Be careful,” Frypan breathed as he shuffled in through the door, “I worked hard on that.”

                  The boy turned and looked at Minho in horror.

                  Minho just clenched his jaw and tried to send fire at him through his glare.

                  “Minho!” Frypan greeted.  “Where should I put these?”

                  “Under the tree is fine,” he said through thinning breath.

                  “And who’s this?” Newt asked, nodding at the boy still frozen – one hand on the door and one hand holding a giant pie.

                  Frypan put the gifts down and turned to the group.  “Oh, no. He’s not with me he just opened the door for me.”

                  Minho could feel Newt’s stare on him.

                  “Minho?” 

                  And yes, now he could most definitely hear the grin on Newt’s face, the tone of I-Knew-It behind his words.  It infuriated him.

                  “Care to introduce us to your friend?”

                  Minho cleared his throat as he walked to the boy – who, quite frankly, looked like he was about to pass out.  Minho slowly took his hand from the door, closed the apartment off and turned to the others, still holding the boy’s hand.  “This is my boyfriend I was telling you about.”  He ignored the way the boy’s hand immediately froze in his.

                  Frypan clapped and let out a cheer.  “Oh my god!” He scurried over and wrapped his arms around the small boy’s neck in an embrace.  “Welcome!”

                  The boy’s eyes shifted to Minho’s in a mix of fear and confusion.

                  “I’m sorry!” Frypan shook his head and finally took the pie from him.  “Thanks for holding that.”

                  “Anytime,” he breathed.

                  Newt still stood in the kitchen, hip leaning into the counter, arms folded and a single eyebrow raised.

                  “Newt,” Minho started.  “Are you gonna come say hi or are you gonna stay in the kitchen and be rude?”

                  Newt blinked.  He finally pushed off the counter and let his hands fall to his sides as he walked over. 

                  Minho turned to the boy.  “Forgive him, he’s got a bit of a stick up his ass.”  He ignored the glare from Newt.  “This is Newt,” he gestured to him as the two of them shook hands.  “Newt this is –,” his chest tightened suddenly as he realized he still had no idea what the boy’s name was.

                  “-Aris,” the boy smiled, shaking Newt’s hand.  He looked up at Minho then with a withering glance.

                  “Uh huh,” Newt nodded.  “Nice to meet you, Aris.”

                  “Pleasure’s mine.”

                  “Are you staying for dinner, then?”

                  “Oh no,” Minho shook his head.  “He’s got… a thing.”  
  
                  “Family?” Newt asked Aris.

                  “His sister’s,” Minho nodded.

                  Aris stared up at Minho, blinking.

                  “You have a sister?” Newt asked, glancing between them.

                  “Yes,” Aris said, still staring at Minho.  He looked back down at Newt.

                  “You should have her come by,” Newt smiled in a way that unnerved Minho.  “We’ve got plenty of food.”

                  “Oh,” Aris said. “I can’t.  She can’t.  She’s in South Africa.”

                  Minho coughed on his own saliva.

                  “South Africa?” Newt asked.

                  “Yeah,” Minho confirmed.  “One of those, uh, Christmas safari…things? It’s for Charity.  She runs a charity,” he nodded.

                  “That’s amazing!” Frypan said.  “Wasn’t Zart doing something like that?”

                  “Yeah,” Newt said.  “Two years ago.”

                  “Small world,” Minho said.  He pulled open the door.  “Well, Aaron here has gotta get going.”

                  “Aris,” he corrected.

                  “Bye sweetheart!”

                  “Hang on,” Newt said, a hand around Aris’ shoulders.  “If your sister’s in South Africa, you’re free for the party, no?”

                  “His parents’ house,” Minho said.

                  Aris visibly shrank next to him.

                  “Surely he can stay just for a little?” Newt asked.

                  Minho glared at Aris.

                  “You know what?” Aris smiled at Newt.  “I’d love to.  I don’t need to be at that house for a few more hours.”

                  Minho’s stomach dropped. “What?” he breathed.

                  “Oh relax, Minho,” Aris smiled menacingly at him.  “I won’t embarrass you.”

                  Minho stretched his mouth into a smile as he slowly closed the door.  He waited for it to click shut before he spoke again.  “Aris, can I speak to you in private for a moment?”

                  “Sure.”

                  Minho walked through the group and started toward his room, ignoring the snicker of laughter from Newt.

                  When Aris joined him in the bedroom, Minho closed the door and spun on him.  “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered.

                  “What?” Aris shrugged defensively and crossed his arms.

                  “You can’t stay here! You need to go to your parents’ house.”

                  “You made that up,” Aris snapped at him.

                  “Yes! So you would leave!”

                  “Well too bad,” Aris shrugged. “Now I’m staying.”  
  
                  “Why the fuck are you staying?” Minho nearly squeaked through his whisper.

                  “Are you kidding me?” Aris pointed to the door. “Your friend out there thinks you’re a disaster – and honestly, by the looks of it, he might be right.”  
  
                  “Uh, okay,” Minho raised his brows.  “You can excuse yourself at any time.”  
  
                  “Me staying here is actually helping you, don’t you see that?”

                  “How in the hell is this helpful?”  
  
                  “Who has a boyfriend over and then tries to sneak him out of the house without introducing him to his friends?” Aris shook his head.  “That’s obvious one-night-stand protocol.”

                  “Oh, are you versed in one-night-stand protocol? Are you a one-night-stand protocol pro? Did you write the book on one-night-stands?”

                  “Obviously, you didn’t,” Aris sneered. “Or you would have at least remembered my name.”

                  Minho gaped for a moment and then closed his mouth when he couldn’t come up with a response.  He hated this kid.   “Listen,” he exhaled.  “You’re going to mess something up – badly.  So badly that I have to break up with you, you got it?  Just be incredibly rude to someone so I can defend them and snap at you and send you on your way.”

                  A muscle feathered in Aris’ jaw.  “Fine.”  
  
                  “Good.”

                  “Great.”

                  Minho rolled his eyes and left the room.

                  “Everything okay in there?” Newt asked, lifting his gaze from his phone.

                  “Yep!” Minho smiled.  “He’s just putting his jacket away.”

                  “Oh, okay,” Newt smirked down at his phone as he continued his text. 

                  Minho ran his tongue along his teeth.  Okay maybe Eris, Aaron – whatever his name was – was right.  Maybe Newt clearly didn’t believe him.  He wondered how Newt would respond when he inevitable messed something up and Minho had to fake-break up with his fake-boyfriend.  He could already see it:

 

                  _Newt laughed in the corner by the tree next to Gally, collecting money from him.  “Told you the whole thing was fake.  This is a cop-out.”_

_“You think so?” Gally asked, pocketing his wallet after the exchange._

_“That, or Minho is still just going after trashy guys in bars,” Newt shrugged and sipped his drink._

_“Let’s be honest, are we surprised?” Thomas asked on the other side of them.  “Minho hasn’t been able to hold a relationship for longer than three weeks.”_

_“Yeah,” Alby snorted.  “And that was in the fourth grade.”_

_Their laughter echoed throughout the room._

 

                  “Minho!”

                  Minho blinked back to the kitchen.

                  “You know what?” Newt held up a hand and looked him over.  “Why don’t you go shower and get ready.  Frypan and I will work on all of…this,” he gestured to the entire apartment.

                  “Great,” he nodded.  “Thanks.”

                  “Sure.”

                  Minho jogged up the stairs and nearly ran directly into Aris as he opened the door.

                  “Is everything okay?”

                  “Yeah,” Minho nodded.  “I just have to shower real fast.”

                  “Do you want me to go out there?”

                  Minho ran a hand through the day-old gel again.  “I guess. Just… don’t do anything.  Try not to talk to anyone.  Just pretend you’re really shy or something.”  
  
                  Aris rolled his eyes and made to walk around Minho.

                  Minho held a hand to his chest and pushed him back before looking down at the blue striped button down.  “Is that my shirt?”

                  “Yes.”

                  “Why are you wearing my shirt?” Minho bit.

                  Aris shrugged. “You spilled your martini on mine last night.”  
  
                  Minho shook his head. “Whatever just go.  Don’t do anything stupid.”

                  “Too late,” Aris eyed him and then left the room.

                  Minho sighed heavily through his nose and closed his eyes.  “The faster you shower,” he mumbled to himself as he closed the door, “the faster this will be over.”

 

                  Minho jogged down the three steps to his kitchen to see it had doubled in occupants and decorations.  Alby arrived at some point and was helping Newt set up the appetizer platters he brought with him on the kitchen island – now covered in a bright red table cloth.  Minho’s eyes scanned the kitchen and then beneath the arch – complete with straightened boe and some leaf thing hanging from it – to the living room and there, fixing up a few of the ornaments by the tree, was Aris speaking with Sonya and her fiancée, Harriet. Minho started making his way directly over to them until Frypan stepped in his path. 

                  “Hey I set up the Bluetooth, but I need your wifi password,” Frypan said, ipad in hands. 

                  Minho blinked at him.

                  “It’s the new one,” Frypan grinned.  “Perks of working at Apple, yeah?”  
  
                  “Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes still on Aris.  “It’s GladerA7.”

                  “Really?” Frypan laughed. “Still living on the High School track team, are we?”

                  “Yeah, guess so,” he offered a small laugh.  “Excuse me one second?”

                  “Oh yeah!” Frypan nodded to the corner.  “The girls didn’t wanna wait for you to introduce him.”

                  “Fantastic,” Minho grit out.  He side-stepped Frypan and made his way to the tree.  “Hey,” he smiled a greeting at the girls.

                  “Minho!” Harriet smiled, wrapping an arm around him, wine glass steady in the other.  “How’re you doing?”  
  
                  “Good, how are you?” he reached forward to hug Sonya as well.

                  “Great!” Sonya answered and then grinned slyly.  “We were just meeting your new boyfriend.”

                  Minho pressed his mouth into a smile.  “Great!”

                  Aris glanced at him from beneath his arms as he continued resetting ornaments.

                  “Whatcha doing there?” Minho raised his brows at him.

                  “Just spreading out the ornaments,” Aris answered.  “You had them all cluttered in the front; the rest of the tree was empty.

                  Minho blinked. “That’s because nobody looks at the sides of the tree.”

                  “You see it from all angles,” Aris continued.  “Besides, if pictures are taken in that corner,” he gestured with a tilt of his head, “then you don’t want an entire side of the tree to be bare.”

                  “See?” Harriet turned to Sonya.

                  Sonya held her hands up innocently.  “In my defense, I never decorated the tree when I was younger.  Newt always stole that from me.”  
  
                  Harriet laughed and pressed a small kiss to Sonya’s head.  “Well, now you can learn.”

                  There was a knock on the door that made Minho’s insides flip.  Every knock meant another person he needed to introduce Aris to. 

 

                  After a while, the apartment seemed to fill up.  More and more friends arrived, more appetizers were eaten and Minho found it relatively easy to keep one eye on Aris at all times to make sure nothing messed up too badly.

                  “He’s quite interesting,” Newt’s voice crept up next to Minho. 

                  He turned and looked at him with a brow raised. “Interesting?”

                  Newt shrugged.  “Not what I would have guessed for you after Ben.”

                  Minho grit his teeth and turned back to watch Aris.

                  “Figured you were always the athlete type.”

                  “I needed something different,” Minho shrugged.

                  Newt eyed him.  “And this _something different_ isn’t going to just be temporary, is it?”

                  “No. It’s not.”  
  
                  “Good,” Newt nodded.  “I think he can be good for you.”

                  Minho looked at him again.  “What?”

                  “I don’t know,” Newt shrugged. “There’s just something quirky about him.  I feel like you two balance each other out.”

                  “Quirky,” Minho repeated.

                  “Yeah.”

                  “If you say so.”

                  Newt shrugged.  “Whatever it is, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him.”

                  Minho rolled his eyes and turned back toward the kitchen.  “I need to check the food.”

                 

                  The turkey looked like it was on the latter side of cooking, which was a relief.  He didn’t know how much longer he could take waiting.  He moved some things around on the racks before he closed it back up.

                  “How’s it looking?”

                  Minho jumped at the sudden voice at his side.  “Christ,” he exhaled to Aris.  “Don’t just sneak up on me like that when I’m leaning over the oven.”

                  “I didn’t sneak.”  
  
                  “You were too quiet.”

                  “Sorry,” Aris said flatly.  “Next time I’ll howl.”

                  “Great.” Minho turned to the crowd.  His heart jumped into his throat.  “When the hell did they get here?”

                  “Who?” Aris turned to face the room.

                  Minho watched as it dawned on Aris’ face. 

                  “Oh shit.”  
  
                  “Yeah,” Minho nodded. “Oh shit is right.  We need to get you out of here.  Fake an emergency.”

                  “What the hell do you want me to say?” Aris whispered to him quickly.

                  “I don’t care,” Minho said, eyes still on the couple removing their jackets in the living room.  “Figure it out.”

                  “Is the window still an option?” Aris laughed.

                  Minho looked down at him.  “Is that a joke? Are you making a joke right now?”

                  “Yes.”

                  “Not the time, Aris.”

                  Aris rolled his eyes.

                  “Listen,” Minho breathed.  “I’m gonna go distract them.  You just tell Frypan that you suddenly had to leave.  He’s the one least likely to ask questions.”

                  “Sounds like it’d be a great plan,” Aris nodded turning to him.  “If they hadn’t already seen me.”  
  
                  Minho looked up to see Brenda making her way over, Gally behind her picking at appetizers on the way.  Minho swore under his breath as he caught the look on Brenda’s face.

                  “Hey Minho,” she smirked and then shifted her gaze. “Aris,” she greeted.

                  “Hey, Brenda,” Aris smiled.

                  “Don’t fuckin’ smile,” Minho whispered to him.

                  “You’re not seriously doing this?” Brenda laughed, folding her arms.

                  “Brenda, I swear to God,” Minho pleaded.  “I will help you close the bar for a week.”  
  
                  Brenda snorted.  “Oh, I don’t care about that.  I’ll keep up your little charade if only so I can see how badly it goes.”  
  
                  He glared at her.

                  “Hey, man,” Gally said over a cracker as he held his hand out to Aris.  “Gally.”

                  “Hey,” Aris shook his hand.

                  “You two a thing?” he asked, pointing between them.

                  Minho shifted his gaze to Brenda.

                  “Yeah,” she said, eyeing him.  She turned to Gally then.  “I set them up.  Knew it’d be a perfect match.”  
  
                  “You are good at that,” he reasoned.

                  “I sure am,” Brenda snorted.  “Come on,” she nudged Gally. “I need a drink.  Gumdrop martini?” she asked Minho.

                  He nearly pulled a muscle keeping himself from flipping her off.  He waited until they walked away before he spun on Aris.  “Any time you wanna make that big mistake,” he urged.

                  “Okay, okay,” Aris rolled his eyes.  “Give me a few minutes, I’m working out the details.”

                  “What details?” Minho whispered. “Just elbow Newt in the eye or something.  Tell Frypan his pie is awful.”

                  “I haven’t even tried it,” Aris frowned.

                  “I do not care,” Minho emphasized as another knock issued throughout the room.  “Figure it out. Sooner than later.”

 

                  “So, Aris,” Teresa smiled at him over her drink.  “What do you do?”

                  “I’m a teacher,” Aris answered as he recorked the wine.

                  Minho raised his brow.  Surely, that was a lie.

                  “Really?” Thomas asked. “Where?”

                  “I actually just got transferred to Spring Academy.”

                  “High school,” Teresa said, brows raised.  “Impressive.”

                  A young boy ran past and Thomas reached out to grip his collar.  He crouched down.  “Chuck. What’d I say about running?”

                  “Chey started it.”

                  Thomas shook his head at him.  “Both of you settle down, this is not a jungle gym.”

                  The young boy rolled his eyes.

                  “Yours?” Aris asked the two of them.

                  Minho snorted and Teresa looked horrified.  “God no,” she said.

                  Thomas furrowed his brow at her as he stood up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

                  “Oh no,” Teresa shook her head. “It’s nothing against them, obviously,” she said, watching the boy skitter around the kitchen island to chase his sister.  “I just mean that would mean you and me…”

                  “Oh god,” Thomas said, realization flashing on his face.  “No,” he turned to Aris. “Absolutely not.”

                  “I meant no offense,” Aris said quickly.

                  “No, I know!” Teresa laughed. “We’ve just known each other since childhood.  It’d be too weird.”  
  
                  “I adopted,” Thomas explained. 

                  “That’s amazing,” Aris smiled.

                  Thomas shrugged.

                  “Thomas is being modest,” Minho said, slinging an arm around him.  “He set up the whole goddamn orphanage.”

                  Aris raised his brows.  “Really?”

                  “The World Center for Kids of the Deceased,” Minho explained. 

                  “Wow,” Aris breathed.  A small laugh followed this.  “Wish that was around when I was younger.”  
  
                  Minho’s smile slowly faded.

                  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Teresa said, a hand grazing his arm.

                  “It’s okay,” Aris shook his head.  “I lost them when I was way, way younger.”

                  “Both of them?” Thomas asked.

                  Aris nodded.  “Foster care ‘til I was eighteen,” he shrugged.

                  Minho’s arm slinked back from Thomas’ shoulders.  “I need to check on the food,” he said quietly.

                  Aris smiled up at him before he turned back to Thomas and Teresa.

                  Minho walked over to the stove and stared at the carrots as they rested in the slow-heating water.  His stomach sank as he recalled telling the others Aris had to celebrate with his parents that evening.  He was such an idiot; how did he not know his parents weren’t around anymore?  Was it something mentioned last night?  Did he just never ask?

                  “Everything okay?” Aris’ voice pulled him back to the kitchen.

                  He turned and met his gaze. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah everything’s fine.”

                  “Sorry,” Aris turned to look back toward Thomas and Teresa where they were now talking with Zart.  “I didn’t mean to bring all that up or make things weird.”

                  “Is that true?”

                  Aris tilted his head.

                  “About your parents?”

                  “Oh,” Aris realized.  He cleared his throat.  “Yeah.  I probably should’ve just made something up, I wasn’t really thinking.”

                  “No,” Minho shook his head.  “That’s okay. I’m sorry.”

                  “You didn’t do anything,” Aris answered.

                  “I just meant overall,” Minho explained.  “Sorry that you had to grow up without them.”

                  Aris shrugged and picked up a wooden stirrer to move the carrots around in the water.  “It’s okay.  Like I said, I was young, so it didn’t really hit me, I guess.  I didn’t get to know any other life so it’s not like I could miss it, you know?”

                  Minho eyed the carrots.  “How…? I mean… Were you…?”

                  “Car accident,” Aris answered. 

                  “We don’t have to talk about it,” Minho said.

                  Aris smiled up at him.  “Yeah, let’s focus on Christmas.”  
  
                  Minho matched his smile with his own.  “Deal.”

 

                  Minho lowered the music to grab everyone’s attention.  “Dinner’s gonna be out in about fifteen, just to give you all a heads up.” He turned the music back up and turned back to Winston.  “At least we won’t run out.”

                  “I _told_ you,” Winston urged again.  “I thought you said _bring_ a turkey.”

                  “I didn’t even _mention_ turkey!” Minho laughed.

                  “Well, maybe if you did, I’d have known you were making it.”

                  “I’m hosting! Why wouldn’t I make the turkey!”

                  Winston shrugged.  “Still could have said something.”

                  Minho shook his head.

                  “There an issue?” Newt laughed.

                  “Winston also brought a turkey.”

                  Newt blinked at him.  “Why?”

                  “I didn’t _know!_ ” Winston said.

                  “Winston, I said appetizers and dessert.”

                  Winston crossed his arms.  “Listen, you also brought an entire new mouth to feed, so as far as I’m concerned, I thought ahead.”

                  Minho blinked at him. The conversation was suddenly cut off by a sharp gasp and a tiny shriek.  Minho whipped around to the noise to find everyone’s gaze focused in the center of the apartment beneath the wide arch.  Aris held a now empty wine glass, its contents spilled down the front of Teresa’s dress and dripping to the floor. The entire apartment went silent except for the tune of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer coming from the speaker.

                  “Kiss!” Cheyenne called out, pointing to the mistletoe above them.

                  Thomas made an apologetic face to the room before he crouched down next to her and whispered something to her.

                  “Oh, shit,” Winston whispered. 

                  “Isn’t that the dress she got from Greece?” Newt asked.

                  “Yep,” Minho said.

                  “I am,” Aris gulped loudly enough for the room to hear, “so sorry.”

                  Teresa pressed her mouth together as she looked down at the dark red stain blossoming across the white and gold material.  “It’s okay,” she clenched her jaw, but smiled.  “It’s fine.”

                  “No,” Aris shook his head.  “I’m so clumsy, I’m so sorry.”  He lifted his gaze and met Minho’s across the room.  He gave him a small, pointed look.

                  Minho swallowed and glanced around the room.  Everyone’s eyes were on Aris and Teresa.  He took a breath and cleared his throat.  “Excuse me,” he moved between Newt and Winston and made his way over to them.

                  “I’m so sorry,” Aris said shaking his head at Minho.

                  Minho simply shook his head once before he turned to Teresa. “Are you okay?”  
  
                  “Yeah,” she nodded, seeming to come down from the shock.  “It was just a sample,” she wiped at the stain.  “It didn’t actually cost me anything.”  
  
                  “Will you be able to get it out?”

                  “Probably not,” she laughed.  “But again, it’s really okay.”

                  Aris coughed pointedly behind Minho and then apologized again.

                  Minho turned and met Aris’ gaze.

                  Aris raised a brow at him, waiting.

                  Minho glanced around the room again and then back at Teresa.  He made a decision and spun on his heel and walked to the kitchen.  He pulled the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of club soda.  He grabbed a stream of paper towels and walked back to Teresa.  “It’s not much, but I can lend you a shirt and pants and you can leave this hanging in the shower if you want.  I’ll pay to try to get it dry-cleaned.”

                  “It’s okay, really,” she nodded.  “Though, I will take the spare clothes,” she laughed.

                  Minho smiled down at her and nodded toward his room.  “Come on.”  
  
                  She followed him, as Aris let out another small apology. 

                  The conversation began to start up again as Minho and Teresa reached his bedroom.  He grabbed the smallest t-shirt he could find and a pair of joggers.  “None of my nice clothes will fit you,” he shrugged.  “But it’s just us.  You can look a bit raggedy.”

                  Teresa laughed.  “This is fine.” 

                  He gestured to the bathroom and left the room.

                  Aris stood in the hallway waiting for him.  “What happened?” Aris asked.  “That was supposed to be your cue.”

                  Minho worked his jaw over a few unspoken words and then sighed.  “It’s fine.”  
  
                  “What?”  
  
                  “It was a mistake.”  He made to walk around him but Aris grabbed his wrist.

                  “Minho, that wasn’t actually a mistake.  I spilled it on her so you could stage the breakup.”

                  “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get through the rest of the party.”

                  Aris lowered a brow, confused.  “You want me to stay?”  
  
                  Minho made a face and held up a hand.  “Listen, don’t make a big deal out of it.  Have some fun and try not to stain any more one-of-a-kind Italian silk dresses or whatever.”

                  “It’s from Greece,” Aris laughed

                  “Whatever,” Minho waved a hand.  “And you owe me for the carpet.”  He turned and walked down the steps to join the party again.

 

                  Newt helped Minho bring out the folding table from the storage closet and shortly after, Aris and Sonya dragged over barstools and chairs to put around it.  Thomas and his kids formed a sort of assembly line with Teresa to put plates out on the table and Harriet went around pouring wine into a variety of glasses.  It was a makeshift dining table with mismatched chairs and shanty silverware, but somehow it worked.  Alby and Minho each brought a turkey to the table (with a pointed look at Winston) and Aris and Newt helped bring side dishes over to put wherever there were empty spots.  When all was said and done, the fifteen of them were seated around the table, digging in and passing trays around and across.

                  “Not bad,” Newt mused on Minho’s right.

                  “See?” he laughed. “I can host.  I’m good at hosting.”

                  “Only because you’ve got Aris to help you out,” Harriet laughed.

                  “As much as I’d like the credit, it was mostly him,” Aris responded smoothly.  “All I did was fix up the decorations a bit.”

                  “Yeah, I noticed I haven’t seen you two find your way beneath the mistletoe yet,” Sonya grinned, eyeing the tiny plant hanging beneath the arch.

                  Minho was fairly certain he imagined the way Aris’ cheeks tinged red.  He turned to Frypan and Zart, both at the section of the table that was stationed beneath it.  “I don’t see you two sharing any intimate moments.”

                  “You’re lucky Zart isn’t sharing an intimate moment with the mistletoe itself,” Frypan snorted.

                  “Mistletoe is poisonous,” Zart furrowed a brow at Frypan.

                  “Man, it was a joke,” he sighed. “No need to get all plant technical.”

                  Minho glanced at Aris and caught the tail end of a smile before he ducked back to his plate. He shifted his gaze down the table to meet Brenda looking back at him with raised brows.  He furrowed his own and went back to his food.

                  “So, Aris,” Harriet began, leaning forward.  “How’d you two meet?”

                  Aris glanced at Minho and back to her. 

                  “A coffee shop,” Minho answered.

                  “Oh, that’s so sweet!” Sonya crooned.  “I love coffee shop stories.  Tell me everything.”

                  Minho opened his mouth, but Aris swooped in.  “It was my fault, really.  I wasn’t watching where I was going and I bumped into him and he spilled his coffee all over me,” he laughed.

                  “Oh god,” Sonya laughed.

                  Aris glanced back at Minho and held his gaze.  “Yeah, it was a bit of a mess, really.”

                  Minho let out the smallest of laughs through his nose as he recalled the hazy memory in the bar.

                  Aris turned back to the girls. “So, I asked if I could buy him a new marti-” he cleared his throat, “ma..cchiato.. but then he said he felt bad enough that he spilled it on me.  We settled on buying one for each other.”

                  “That’s adorable,” Harriet smiled.

                  “What about you two?” Aris asked.

                  Minho barely heard a word Sonya and Harriet said.  He kept his focus on his plate and tried not to think about the memory of Aris’ smile when he offered to buy him a drink the night before.

                 

                  Once dinner was finished and the table was folded back up to give them room again, the others started settling into the living room, seated across couches and sofas, more stools pulled next to the tree.  Chuck and Cheyenne sprawled across the carpet to make sure they had ample amount of room for all of their presents.

                  “Alright,” Newt tossed a small box over to Chuck.  “Let’s get this started.”

                  While the kids tore apart paper, the others exchanged their Secret Santa gifts.  Minho handed a box across to Sonya and got his own from Frypan.  He reached into the gift bag and pulled out a box of crystal wine glasses.  “Wow,” he laughed. “I don’t know if I should be grateful or offended.”

                  “Just consider it the beginning of a full set,” Frypan warned.  “I’m sick of drinking wine out of coffee mugs every time you host something.”

                  “Hey, I had some wine glasses this year.”  
  
                  “They were plastic!”

                  Minho shook his head laughing.  “Thank you.”  
  
                  “You’re welcome,” he winked back at him. 

                  He looked up to see Aris taking a pile of torn paper from Winston and then moving on to a scoop up some more abandoned ribbon and shoved it into the garbage bag he held.

                  “Aris,” Harriet said.

                  He turned and lifted the bag in question.

                  “No,” she laughed, handing a small gift bag over.

                  He furrowed a brow.

                  Harriet shrugged.  “I always bring extra gifts just in case.”

                  Minho watched at Aris looked over at him, questioning.  “Don’t look at me,” he laughed.  “I didn’t mention anything to anyone.”  
  
                  Aris blinked back at Harriet and reached forward to the small bag.  “Are you sure?”

                  “Yeah,” she nodded.  “It’s nothing big, obviously.  I mean they’re just extra things I pick up in case anyone ends up bringing a friend or something.”  
  
                  Aris slowly lowered the trashbag down, eyes still on the small gift bag.  He looked back up at Minho.

                  Minho looked pointedly at the bag and gestured to open it.

                  Aris reached in and pulled out a pair of black gloves and a small tied bag of candy.  He looked back up at Harriet, confusion still written all over his face.  “Thank you.”  
  
                  “Yeah, no problem,” she laughed.  “Like I said, it’s nothing big.  Just extra things.”  She turned as Cheyenne tugged on her sleeve to show her a new game she got.  “Wow!” Harriet exclaimed. “Maybe we can play during dessert!”

                  “Yeah!”

                  They continued their excitement over the game, but Minho’s focus stayed on Aris as he carefully tucked the gloves and candy back into the gift bag.  “Here,” Minho said as he stood up and reached out to him.  “I’ll keep it in my room for now so it doesn’t get lost in the fray.”  
  
                  Aris looked up at him.  “Okay,” he nodded, a small smile finally finding its way to his face.

 

                  Once the gifts were opened and Thomas managed to wrangle all the kids’ presents into the giant bag Newt passed off to him, the music got louder, the wine poured just a bit faster, and the laughter grew a bit more rambunctious.

                  Minho continued to mingle in and out of conversation, but always kept an eye on Aris.  He watched him thank Harriet and Sonya again for the gift, entertain Zart’s fanatical interests in the differences between flower petals and the leaves of a poinsettia plant, and play a full round of Yahtzee with Chuck, Cheyenne and Brenda.

                  “Alright, Minho,” Newt sighed, leaning back on the island next to him as coffee brewed on the counter.  “Time to admit it.”

                  “What?” he asked, turning to Newt.

                  “Admit it,” he insisted.

                  “Admit…what?” Minho’s heart pounded in his chest.

                  Newt gestured to Aris. 

                  Minho raised a brow, refusing to give in.

                  “Admit I was right!” Newt laughed.  “He balances you out!”

                  Relief flooded his lungs, but there was something else there.  Something that tugged at strings inside of him and made him wonder…  “Yeah,” he smiled and looked back at Aris, animatedly losing to Chuck.  “Yeah, I guess he does.”  
                 

                  “Alright,” Sonya said, lifting her arms above her head as she stretched after another round of Holiday Trivia.  “I think it’s about time we get going.”  She looked down at Harriet.

                  “Oh, babe,” Harriet pleaded.  “Just one more round.”

                  “No, no,” Sonya laughed.  “You’re not the one who has to drive in the holiday traffic.  Come on.”

                  “Fair,” Harriet conceded and finished her drink. 

                  Minho pulled himself up from the armchair and Aris slid off the actual armrest of it and followed him to the door to say goodbye.  Minho opened the door for the two of them.

                  “It was so great to meet you, Aris!” Harriet said, hugging him.

                  “You too,” he smiled.  “Thank you again for the gift.  I really appreciated it.”

                  “Oh, it was nothing,” Harriet waved him off as Sonya caught her.  “Next year you’ll get a real one.”  
  
                  “Yeah,” Sonya nodded.  “Next year you’ll be in the Secret Santa.”

                  Aris pressed his mouth into a smile.  “Sounds great.”  
  
                  Minho swallowed and nodded a goodbye to the girls as they ducked out of the apartment. 

                  “I think we’re gonna get going, too,” Thomas said, walking up to them.  “Got a sleeper here.” He nodded to Cheyenne who was nestled in one arm, curled against his shoulder.  In his other hand was a giant bag of Christmas presents.  “Chuckie say goodbye.  We gotta get home before Santa comes.” Thomas winked at Aris.

                  “Chuck, did you pack any cookies for Santa?” Aris asked, crouching down to him.

                  Chuck’s head snapped up to Thomas.

                  “Go,” Thomas urged him.  “Make sure you grab the peanut butter ones; I hear Santa loves those.” He grinned at Minho as Aris lead Chuck into the kitchen area.

                  Minho watched as Aris helped Chuck pick out a few cookies leftover on the tray.  He felt a light kick against his calf and turned back to Thomas who gave him a smile and a nod of approval as he eyed Aris.  “Yeah,” Minho laughed quietly.  “Not bad, huh?”  He turned back to where Aris helped Chuck wrap the plate of cookies with foil.

                  “He’s a keeper,” Thomas agreed as the two walked back over.   “Alright there, Chuck?”

                  “Plenty of peanut butter,” Aris said.

                  Thomas smiled through his laugh.  “Did you say ‘thank you’?” he asked Chuck.

                  “Thank you, Minho.  Thank you, Aris.”  
  
                  “Anytime Chuck-o,” Minho said, ruffling the boy’s curls.

                  “Hold it with both hands,” Thomas said as Chuck pushed Minho’s hand away and the plate tilted dangerously to the left.  “Night guys,” he said to the two of them before he followed Chuck through the door. 

                  The steady stream of company started trickling through the door as the time went on.  A drink here or there followed by another farewell.  A warm cup of coffee in a to—go mug for Teresa, plastic bag with her silk dress in it in the other hand.

                  “We’re heading to the bar down on Fifth if you guys are up for it,” Alby said, Zart and Winston zipping up their coats behind him. 

                  “ _You’re_ going to the bar?” Minho laughed.

                  “Hey man,” Alby laughed and shrugged.  “It’s Christmas.”

                  Minho shook his head as his laugh continued.  “Maybe next time.  You guys have fun.”

                  “We’re heading out, too.  Gally’s got work early,” Brenda said as the others ducked out of the door. 

                  “On Christmas?” Aris asked him.

                  Gally shrugged.  “They want the office done by New Year’s.”

                  Minho shook his head.  “Assholes.”  
  
                  “Yeah, well,” Gally shrugged.  “If it gets me to Project Manager, I’ll take it.  Then I get every holiday off.  Anyway, nice party, guys.  Aris – nice to meet you.  Bren, I’m gonna go start the car.”  
  
                  “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute,” she nodded to him as she wrapped her scarf.  When he was out of earshot she turned to Minho and Aris.  “Good job tonight, guys.  You almost even had me fooled.”

                  Minho pressed his mouth into a smile and coughed out a laugh.  “Yeah,” he nodded.  “We did it.”  He glanced down at Aris, who was busy finding wrapping paper that had been stuffed into his pocket.

                  “Well, maybe I’ll see you guys around,” Brenda smirked in a way Minho wasn’t quite sure he liked.

                  Frypan and Newt followed them a few minutes later, the latter driving them both home. 

                  “One too many glasses of wine,” Newt eyed Frypan.

                  “Mugs,” Frypan corrected. “Mugs of wine. And if they were glasses, I’d be fine.”  
  
                  “Sure,” Newt nodded.

                  “Aris, my man,” Frypan flung an arm around him.  “New year’s eve party. I throw one every year.  You’d better be there.”

                  Aris looked up at Minho.  “Um, I… I actually have something that day, unfortunately.” He turned back to Frypan.  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

                  Frypan’s disappointment shown clear on his face as his arm slid back to his side.  “Alright, but if that falls through…”

                  “I will keep you in mind,” Aris smiled.

                  “Great,” Frypan said.  He saluted a farewell to Minho and spun out the door.

                  “Aris,” Newt shook his hand.  “Nice meeting you.”

                  “You too,” Aris smiled.  “Get home safe.”

                  “Will do.”  Newt eyed him and Minho.  He seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say.  “Min,” he held his arm out for a hug as Aris made himself busy collecting abandoned plates and cups around the kitchen island.

                  Minho stepped into the hug.  “Thanks, Newt.”  
  
                  “Good job, Min,” Newt said quietly. “You proved me wrong.” He stepped back from the hug.

                  Minho tilted his head.

                  “I see the way you two are with each other.  I thought maybe this was just some fling or something you created but even you can’t lie this well.” He laughed and adjusted the scarf around his neck.  “See you soon, yeah?”

                  Minho swallowed and nodded at him.  “Yeah, sure.”

                  “Cheers.” Newt turned and pulled the door shut behind him.

 

                  Minho turned and eyed Aris as he crouched down with a bottle of club soda and roll of towels and started dabbing at the wine stain on the carpet from earlier.  He shook his head down at him. “Hey, you don’t have to clean that up.  Don’t worry about it.”

                  “It’s alright,” Aris shrugged, pouring more club soda down.  “I did it.  Least I could do is try to salvage the carpet.”

                  Minho watched him for another minute, chest tight.  He took a breath and stepped forward.  He crouched down in front of Aris and stopped his hand from continuing its battle against the stain.  He slowly took the towels from Aris’ grip, eyes still focused on his face.  Minho waited for Aris to finally look up and meet his gaze.  “Thank you.  For everything.  Tonight, I mean.”  
  
                  Aris just looked back at him for another moment before he responded.  “It’s okay.  I told you, I didn’t have any plans today.”  He looked back down at the wine stain. 

                  Minho turned his thoughts over in his head.  “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”  
  
                  Aris looked up at him, confusion blending with a hint of surprise.  He pressed his mouth together and slowly shook his head side to side.  “Nope.”

                  “Do you wanna get coffee?” Minho asked.

                  Aris’ eyes flicked between Minho’s as if he was trying to tell if he was serious or not.  His mouth curled up on one side.  “Are you gonna spill it on me?”

                  “Maybe,” Minho laughed.

                  Aris’ smile grew just a bit more before he moved forward and suddenly Minho’s laugh was cut short.

                  The kiss was light; Aris held it just a moment before he curled back from it again, eyes low.

                  Minho scanned his face, watched the red creep up on his cheeks and the nerves roil through the flickering muscle in his jaw.  Minho reached forward and tilted Aris’ head up to meet his gaze.  “Is that a yes?”

                  Hope and relief dawned in Aris’ eyes.  He smiled up at him.  “Hazelnut with two sugars.”

                  Minho laughed softly and then leaned forward to press their foreheads together.  “Noted.”  He tilted his face just a bit to catch Aris’ laugh and could have sworn it was even sweeter than gumdrop martinis.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! There’s never enough Minaris in the world. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter at @WritingBia !  
>  
> 
> Gumdrop Martinis are dangerous. Coffees help.  
> http://ko-fi.com/comebacknow


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